A Heart That's Harder Than Stone
by fiction-fiend
Summary: What if staying away is what's hurting her the most? Title from Brand New's The Boy Who Blocked His Own Shot.
1. Chapter 1

Diana knows you watch her when you think she's not looking. In the hallway. At meetings for the Circle. From your seat at the back of your shared English class. She may not catch you in the act, but she can feel your eyes on her every time. You know her hair stands on end, that her body starts to tingle. She has the same reaction to you as you do to her. She's just a whole lot better at repressing it than you are.

There was a time when Faye Chamberlain and Diana Meade were inseparable. Before magic, before boys, before two very big personality changes, there were two girls who spent more time together than apart. They spent days playing elaborate games of make-believe. They went on adventures in the forbidden part of the woods. They found a house there, that the forest had claimed with its vines and trees, and called it their own. They told their parents they were sleeping at the other's house when really they were camping out in their little house, out there in the woods, the two of them curled up in each other's arms in one sleeping bag.

"One day, when we're older, I'm going to fix this place up for you," promised young Faye, "and we're going to live here together. Just you and me, Diana. Forever."

_Oh, and how naïve that girl had been_, you think bitterly. As you had aged, the two of you had realized that you had a connection unlike anyone else you knew. And one night, in the confines of your beautifully untamed home away from home, you tapped into the potential of that connection. You had just told the funniest joke and Diana was laughing so hard she snorted. And when she snorted, she sucked back the piece of gum she'd been chewing. It lodged in her throat and she started spluttering and you panicked. You didn't know what to do. You remembered something about whacking the person on the back, so you ran to her and gave her a firm wallop, but it didn't work. Diana coughed and coughed and coughed and you sat there, helpless, on the verge of tears.

As you watched Diana's face turn purple while you cowered on the ground, when you had never felt more utterly weak in your entire life, a light bulb overhead exploded. And then another. And then another. The explosions caught you both off guard and startled Diana enough for her to dislodge the gum. You ran to her and pulled her into your lap as you apologized over and over. She just told you it was okay, there was nothing you could do and it wasn't your fault, but nothing could calm you down. And it was in that moment, that tiny, insignificant moment, you knew you loved her more than you would ever love anyone else. And it scared you senseless.

So you ran. You waited until Diana fell asleep and then you fled the house, never turning back. You've been running ever since.

You stopped going to the house with her. You stopped taking her calls. You started dating the first cute boy to pay you any attention after the school realized that _FayeandDiana_ were now just Faye and Diana. You changed yourself to fit the role of bad girl that you thought Jake wanted you to be. Not too long after, Diana started dating Adam, and any of the spark she once had was gone. She was happy with him, sure, but the old Diana had been feisty, had enjoyed bending the rules from time to time. You had no idea who this straightlaced, uptight girl was. But then again, you doubt she recognized you either.

When Jake had broken up with you after his graduation, you were crushed, but what was most devastating was that you didn't have a best friend to turn to. Even worse was finding out that Diana had showed Adam the house. That was _your _place. Together. You had never taken Jake there, not to the space that was so special to the two of you.

When Diana had come to you two months into sophomore year, with the request that you meet her at the old house after school that day, you had no idea what to expect. You had barely spoken since that day you fled the woods without a second glance. You were tempted to tell her you couldn't make it, that, more importantly, you didn't want to go, but this was Diana, after all. You could never say no to her.

You're not sure what you thought was going to happen as you pushed open the decrepit old door to your secret place. Trepidation filled your every action as you peered into the living space. Did you expect Diana to be standing there, begging for your friendship back? Perhaps you thought she fixed up the worn down inside, cleared out all the vines in an attempt to woo you back there. All you know is, you did _not_ expect to see Adam and Diana standing there, happy as ever, holding hands and making moon eyes at each other while Jake's pesky younger brother, Nick, and some girl from your gym class stood idly by.

That was the day you learned who you were. It was the first time you'd felt some semblance of control in your life since you'd met Diana Meade. And you relished it.

You threw yourself into magic. You loved every part of it. It made you feel like you were a part of something bigger, like it could just swallow you up if you let it. You befriended Melissa, and took her as a minion of sorts. You needed at least one person on your side if Diana was going to be running the show. You hated that she was the only one with a Book of Shadows because of course, _of course_ she would be the one with all the control over the only thing that made you feel as remarkable as she once had. You became catty with Diana, unnecessarily so, until that's all your relationship consisted of: her trying to get you to keep your magic under control and you throwing snide remarks in her face.

It's amazing how much can happen in two years. And it's just as amazing how quickly things can turn around.

Cassie's arrival and Nick's subsequent death had changed things for everybody, but no more so than you and Diana. Life was dangerous now. One of you could be gone in the blink of an eye. So you two had started talking in more than monosyllabic exchanges again, and despite the occasional remark on your part, it was nice. Almost friendly. Almost like it used to be.

So when you're sitting at the back of class listening to the teacher drone on and on about fate and destiny and how some guy named Rex had gotten majorly screwed over by humanity's inability to change what's pre-determined for them, it shouldn't surprise you that you notice Diana's shoulders tense as your gaze sweeps over her. And it shouldn't catch you off guard when she turns around slowly and makes eye contact. And it _really _shouldn't take your breath away when you receive a text shortly after she turns away that reads, _Meet me tonight 8? Our place._

The rest of your day happens in a blur. There's this clenching in your stomach that won't go away and you barely register Melissa's presence as she natters in your ear on the ride home.

8 o'clock comes too soon. A part of you hopes you'll show up and the Circle will be there, just like last time, and you can go right back to being your normal, resentful self, but you don't think that's the case.

The lights are off when you get there, and you slowly approach the door, wondering why Diana's not there yet (it _is_ 8:07, after all), when you hear soft murmuring coming from inside. You pick up your pace, eager to know what's going on now, and you catch a glimpse of Diana through one of the boarded up windows. For the second time today, she manages to take your breath away by simply acknowledging your presence.

She greets you with a shy smile and a simple _hi_ once you're inside, but you don't respond, merely take note of your surroundings. Eight lit candles form a circle, surrounded by salt, with Diana's book perched in the center.

"What's all this?" you ask.

"I-I didn't know who else to ask," she replies cautiously. "You're the most in-tune with magic out of all of us, Faye. I was hoping that you'd help me. That we could practice. Together."

Your heart races. You know she's lying. While you're perhaps still the most powerful witch in the Circle, Adam is easily the most in-tune with his powers. Adam can turn his magic on and off like a faucet; you're more like a geyser.

"Oooh, little Miss Diana actually wants to get her magic on? Colour me surprised."

"So are you in?"

"Are you kidding? Not only are you asking me to do magic, you're offering up your book too? Of course I'm in."

She smiles and walks over to you, grabbing your hand and pulling you into the circle. You sit there, facing each other, as Diana pours over the book before finally selecting a spell. She gestures for you to mirror her position, sitting cross-legged, hands facing palm up, resting just over your knees. She grabs your hands and intertwines your fingers, then instructs you to repeat after her. After a few chants, it hits you.

The two of you feel suspended in time. You're not sure how many spells you do or what they are or how long you sit there, you just know that you've never felt this way before. As the Latin words fly easily out of your mouth, with your hands still tightly clasped, you're seeing the whole world and then some. A bird appears out of thin air, objects levitate around you, you see patterns in the air, the whole room fades to black and white, then explodes into technicolor, until you're finally right back where you started, candles extinguished, panting heavily.

"I think that must be what drugs feel like," Diana says shakily, still catching her breath. You shake your head.

"You have no idea…" you start and Diana frowns, "What we just did? No drug can measure up to that."

Diana beams, then, and the two of you sit there, hands still linked, staring into each other's eyes. This is what it used to feel like when you were kids. Just you and her in this big old house, endless possibilities at your fingertips.

"Adam's going to leave me," Diana whispers, averting her gaze.

You seethe. Of course this is about him.

"Yeah, well, poor you, Diana. Guess you'll just have to live like the rest of us, without some prince by your side to stand up for you at every turn and clean up your messes," you spit, pulling away. But Diana won't let go.

"No, Faye. You don't get it. Adam's going to leave me and I… I don't care. I love him, but… Doing this? I could never do this with him. I would never want to after tonight. Me and you doing magic together? And _here_, of all places? It just feels so… _right_."

She lets go of your right hand and gently cups your cheek. Your pulse quickens and blood rushes in your ears. What is she doing? Doesn't she know how long you've tried to prevent this? Doesn't she know the lengths you've gone to just to protect her from you? You need to get away, but your brain and body aren't communicating.

She leans in, slowly, letting her other hand roam up your side. As she hovers inches from your face, her tongue slips out and moistens those tantalizing lips that are ever so close to your own. Gently, she tilts your head to the side and brings her mouth so close to yours that you can smell her lipgloss.

"I missed my best friend, Faye," she murmurs, "What happened to the girl that was going to fix this house for me? So we could live here together? Where did she go? Because I'm starting to get tired of waiting for her to come back."

And then her lips are on yours and all the overwhelming thoughts you've had up until now come grinding to a halt. You don't comply right away, but Diana is gentle, tentative, easing your mouth open with her tongue in the most persuasive of manners.

When you finally start kissing back, _really_ kissing back, you hear a moan rise from the back of her throat and feel her hands slip from your face to your back in order to pull you closer. It's only when she pauses, languidly separating her lips from your own to catch her breath, that the gravity of the situation hits you.

You scramble backwards, pushing yourself into a standing position and start pacing. Diana watches you, confused, but when she gets up, you only move further away.

"Diana, I-I… I can't do this. It's too much," you try to explain.

"Faye… I thought we were on the same page? I thought this is what you wanted too."

"I do! God, I do. It's just… we can't. I can't."

"Faye, I get it. You're scared. And if you felt what I felt that night two years ago, then you were scared then, too. I'm not stupid. I know that's why you left. I used to know you better than you knew yourself. You thought that because you couldn't help me you were useless. That you weren't good enough. And when I woke up in the morning and you were gone, I just wanted to come to you and tell you it would be okay because it didn't matter what you thought or what you were afraid of because I _knew_ you were good enough. Because I knew you loved me. And that would always, _always _be enough. But I was scared too. That's why I didn't come after you. I let us fall apart. I let you go on thinking that I could live without you in my life. But I can't, Faye. I need you here. With me. And this time… We're both stronger people now. All that's happened over the last couple of months has proved that. We're meant to be together, and whatever comes at us… We'll figure it out. Together."

"No, Diana! You don't get it. I'm not stronger. I am so, so weak. I'm not good for you. I haven't got myself together yet. I don't know if I ever will. And if I bring you into this mess… I'll wreck you," your voice comes out strangled and broken, and you realize there are tears starting to fall from your eyes. "And I could _never_ live with myself if I did that. And as much as it hurts to be away from you, at least I know you won't have me bringing you down when you were meant for so much more than this place."

"I don't care what you think, Faye! I don't want you standing on the sidelines of my life because you think you're not good enough or that you'll hurt me – "

You shake your head vigorously. It's all too much to handle. You're no good. You know it, your mother knows it, everybody else knows it, so why can't she just see it too?

"I will _ruin_ you, Diana. I can't do that. Because if I do… Then I'll have hurt the only thing I've ever loved. Don't you get that? I want more for you. I don't even know why I came here tonight."

"You came because deep down, you don't want to give up on yourself! You think you're so broken and damaged, and that you'll hurt me, but I think you're just afraid of getting hurt yourself!"

"You know what?" you chuckle bitterly, "You're right. I'm afraid that the one person who looks at me like I might be capable of something more than just being a screw up might realize that I'm no good. That I'm not worth being loved. And then I won't have anything left to hold on to."

Diana's gaze softens and you tense up. You didn't want to say all these things to her, and you don't know where this sudden case of word vomit is coming from.

"We can work on this together, Faye. You don't have to push everyone away. Least of all me."

"But I do. I'm sorry, Diana. I'm so, so sorry."

And then you run. You run away from the old house, you run from the woods, you run from reality. Just like you did the first time. And, just like the first time, a girl with tear-filled brown eyes stands amongst the wreckage you're leaving behind, left to wonder when you'll realize that all this running is what's hurting her the most.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I haven't had any desire to write lately, but I re-read this fic the other day and kind of had some inspiration strike and decided to run with it. I'm posting this as a new chapter rather than a new story because I consider it another part of the story rather than a separate entity. So… yeah.

* * *

><p>You spend the day after the events with Diana holed up in your room. Your mother is initially dubious of your request to stay home sick, but when she had approached you earlier and taken notice of your swollen eyes and red nose, her expression softened and she acquiesced. Apparently Dawn Chamberlain wasn't one hundred percent bitch. Who knew?<p>

Despite the cold and somewhat fractured relationship you have with your mother, there are certain times when she comes through for you. Like that night with Sally on the pier. You'll never forget the feeling of ice cold fear that spread through your body as the girl flew through the wooden guardrail and onto the rocks below. You thought you killed her. You felt wretched and worthless and miserable and absolutely petrified. It was an accident. You could never do that to someone in cold blood.

At least you knew you couldn't. It was the others' opinions you were worried about.

Did they see you as a killer? As someone who was so careless and out of control that ending another human being's life was just an unfortunate bump in the road? You worked so hard to build yourself up as a person unfazed by what others think of you, but what's on the outside doesn't necessarily reflect what's on the inside. You're hyperaware of being judged by everyone, especially the members of your circle, and if it turned out that you killed a girl, they were going to see it as another step towards your inevitable role as the villain of the story. You weren't sure which would hurt you more: the weight of Sally's death on your shoulders, or knowing that the people you tried to call your friends would forever see you as a twisted, irredeemable screw up.

But you didn't kill anyone that night. And you're not the villain of the story. All you want is to stop feeling like you're weak and powerless. Is that such an unforgivable thing? It just happens to be that the one thing that gives you that power can spin out of your control and help further everyone's belief that you're reckless. What a tangled web.

You hear a light rap at your door and are startled out of your thoughts. Your mother isn't due home for another several hours, so who else has access to the interior of your house? Shakily, you call out a soft 'who's there?', and as the door glides open, you're greeted with a face that both elates you and fills you with dread.

"How did you get inside?"

The figure remains rooted in place in your doorway.

"When you weren't at school I got worried, so I talked to your mom. She said you were fine, just sick, but also mentioned that the hide-a-key was still in the same place it used to be so…"

You chuckle lightly despite yourself. "What a great principal. Secretly encouraging kids to skip school. Well done, Dawn."

She approaches your bed now, slowly, like a frightened animal.

"I think the only reason she didn't flat-out say 'you need to go check on Faye' is because she _is_ the principal. At least she was somewhat subtle."

You're aware of how close she's moved to you, and you're torn between telling her to just sit down already and demanding she leave.

"Well, I'm fine, still alive and breathing, so you don't have to stay here. Go report back to my mother like a good little lackey and I'm sure she'll keep Diana Meade's perfect attendance record intact."

At this, the other girl finally sheds her trepidation and addresses the elephant in the room.

"I'm not here for her, Faye. I'm here for me. And a little bit for you. But mainly for me." She nods to herself and adjusts her blazer. You know she's trying to convince herself that what she's saying is true. "You just left last night. I… I opened myself up to you and tried to reach out and you just abandoned me. And after you left, I kept thinking 'what did I do?' until I finally realized after God knows how many hours of crying that it had nothing to do with me, it… it's you. I shouldn't be mad at myself, I should be mad at _you_. So… I'm angry with you. And I just thought you should know."

Despite the overwhelming feelings of self-hatred building up inside you for knowing you made the lovely and perfect Diana Meade cry, you're a little bit amused.

"So that's what you came here to tell me? You found my mother to ask her about my well-being and then bailed on school to come all the way over to my house to tell me you're angry with me?"

"Yes. Well, no. But kind of. I spent all night working out how I was going to confront you and how I was going to be intimidating and yell at you and I chose this cute outfit and I was _ready_, so imagine my surprise when you were nowhere to be found today. At first I thought maybe you and Melissa were just skipping, but I saw Mel and she said she hadn't heard from you since yesterday when you drove her home, and then your mom said you weren't feeling well and that's when I _knew_."

Now you're genuinely confused. You thought this was going to end up with Diana berating you for more or less being an asshole, and you were going to do all you could to convince her that you were exactly that so maybe she would finally give up and abandon you as a lost cause like everyone else. But now she's sitting on your bed and looking at you with soft, sympathetic eyes, and you're just so very perplexed...

"You lost me," you admit. "What do you know? That I'm a worthless bitch who hides from her problems? Guess you nailed it."

"Will you stop saying that? Get it out of your head already. You're not some terrible person, Faye. Occasionally bitchy, sure, but that's more of an endearing trait these days than an actual annoyance. The only person that thinks you're so worthless is you. And that's exactly what I mean when I say 'I knew.'"

She's inched up the bed now and she's just staring at you. You're distinctly uncomfortable. You feel like she can see everything that's going on in your head, that the things you try so desperately to keep hidden are all on display for her.

"If you were really this girl you claim to be, you would have been at school today gloating about how I tried to seduce you and that you turned me down. But you didn't. You weren't even at school. When we talked last night you said you didn't want to hurt me, and I didn't really believe it because all you _do_ is hurt me, but you followed through. You didn't just jump back into your Faye Chamberlain façade and use that sharp tongue of yours to push me away. And when I came over here and saw you like this, I knew I had gotten through to you. It just proved that you do care whether or not your actions hurt others, even if you haven't realized that yet."

You feel trapped. You've suddenly become this feral, caged animal, and you're not sure whether to lash out or resign yourself to your fate. The one thing you _never_ wanted to do was hurt Diana, but she's right: that's all you do. You cut her with your words, you reject her feelings, you run in the other direction when she comes towards you.

You suddenly feel warm flesh against your own and it's divine. The warmth radiates outward and you can almost feel it moving through you. As you look towards the source, you can't bring yourself to meet her eyes. You can only focus on her hand on your arm. There's something that happens when Diana touches you. You're not sure if it's your body chemistry or if you two really do have some sort of metaphysical magic connection, but the moment your skin is in contact with hers, you experience a sensation unlike any you've ever felt before. It's a lot like what you imagine pure happiness feels like.

"I'm not going to give up on you without a fight, Faye. Not this time. We're not 12 years old anymore. I'm ready to try and figure out whatever this is. I know you're not perfect, but neither am I. And your actions today – or I guess lack of – proved that you're not the terrible person you pretend to be."

"But I don't pretend to be that way!" You finally have to speak up, to try and shake her from the idealized version she has of you. "I am that way. I treat others terribly because for the most part _I don't like them_. You're the exception, not the rule. I am always going to be a bitch and other people are always going to hate me and I don't want you to get dragged down with me. Everyone loves you, Diana, and I wouldn't want anyone to think less of you because you're hanging around with me."

"So what I got from that is you both like me and love me. Am I close?"

"Ha ha, very funny. You can play the selective hearing card all you want, but you know I'm right."

"No, what I know is you just said that I'm the exception to your 'I hate everybody' rule, which means you must like me. And I'm not sure if you've paid any attention the past couple of days, but let me make something very clear: I most certainly like you."

She motions for you to scoot over so she can lay down beside you instead of remaining perched precariously on the edge of your bed. The removal of her hand on your arm does not go unnoticed; your whole body feels just a little bit colder, but she's so much closer to you now that you don't think you mind. She shifts onto her side so that she's facing you and tentatively runs her hand through your hair. When you automatically respond by sinking into her touch, she takes that as her cue to continue, and you realize in that moment that this is something you want more than you could ever admit. Just someone to sit in silence with, someone who knows you're going to make mistakes almost constantly, but who won't reprimand you for them, someone that can make you feel like maybe you deserve to be happy every now and again.

"This wouldn't be easy," you say in a quiet, somewhat defeated voice, "We're so different. There are things about me you won't like and vice versa. We might fight a lot. You might end up hating me."

Diana's hand moves from your hair to your cheek and directs your face towards hers. You make eye contact for the first time since she entered your bedroom, and God, you could just spend hours getting lost in those brown eyes of hers.

"You're right. We're very different. And we probably _will_ fight a lot. It's kind of in our nature," she laughs airily, as if this is just a normal, lighthearted conversation and not potentially life-altering. "But we also complement each other. You need someone to ground you, and I need someone to challenge me, and push me out of my comfort zone. And to be honest, I don't think I could ever hate you. I might want to kill you, but it will always be out of love."

You gulp in a huge breath at the utterance of that word, but Diana either doesn't notice or ignores it.

"I… I can't promise you anything," you whisper. This is it. Time to tell the truth "You know that, right? And I don't want you to try and fix me, or anything like that. I don't even know if I_ want_ to be fixed. But I do know that I… I'd like to try. Just to see if we can be like we used to be. We'll just see how things go, or whatever. Because even though this scares the crap out of me, I know that I was never happier than when we were those two inseparable kids, and when I'm around you now I almost get that feeling back. And I think... I think I'd like to feel that again. Happy. It might be nice."

Diana looks at you through bleary, tear-filled eyes, and beams. She's stroking your cheek at this point, and her touch feels so radiant that for one moment, you have no doubt in your mind that you've made the right choice, that this was the _only_ choice.

"I'm going to kiss you now, okay?" she says with a watery smile and a slight giggle, and you just nod in response.

She leans in, but this time you're the one who closes the distance between your lips, and it feels like the perfect vindication for last night: you're not going to run away, you're not going be stunned back into reality when you have to come up for air, you're just going to sink into it and let it consume you.

But this kiss isn't passionate and fiery and world-ending. It's brief and tender and is the promise of a thousand more to come. Diana's not going to be the end of your world. She's going to be the one that tries to reopen your eyes to the world you _could_ have, with her by your side.

You weren't lying when you said you couldn't promise her anything. There's going to be so many trials and tribulations and you're not sure you're strong enough to make it through, but as you open your eyes and see her face hovering so close to yours, with happy tear tracks streaking down her cheeks, you promise yourself that you're going to give it your all.

You pull her close and wrap your arms around her, stroking her hair as she did for you earlier. With your free hand you wipe away the tears, and place a kiss on each cheek. Diana tastes like smiles and hope and a promise for a better life, one that you're still not sure you can have, but when she closes her eyes and sighs contentedly, you know that you'll do anything to keep her this happy forever. No more running. No more hurting. Today, you stand up and face your demons, and put Diana first in the way she deserves: not by pushing her away, but by embracing her. Your heart is hers. You only hope that that's enough.


End file.
